Barth Goes to The Greasy Spoon In The Sky

I know what you're thinking. No update for nearly a month and then when we return it's another post about death.

We here at Friendly Friends Amalgamated Manufacturing and Refining Company, Inc. are usually pretty happy fellows. None of us really dwell too much on death and dying.

But when it's a small piece of your childhood that has died you feel compelled to comment on it. And that's what happened when Les Lye passed away on Tuesday.

Mr. Lye played all of the adult male characters on my favorite show as a kid, You Can't Do That on Television. I raced home most days from Erdenheim Elementary to catch this show on Nickelodeon.

The opening, very Monty Python-esque, features Mr. Lye prominently:



Here's my favorite Mr. Lye character, and the inspiration for the title of this post, beating up on his poor employee, Zilch:



Barth takes care of the health inspector, leading to two of the greatest catchphrases from the show:



And finally, Mr. Lye as Ross Ewitch the stage manager being subjected to green slime. As a kid I wanted to get slimed so badly:



It must say something about me that while watching these clips I still laughed like I did when I was 7 or 8, but I did.

Thanks Mr. Lye and RIP.

I thought these things only came in 3's?

First it was Ed McMahon. Pretty sad, but he was 86 and in failing health.

Then it was Farrah Fawcett. Again, sad, but she'd been fighting cancer for some time.

Then it was Michael Jackson. Sad, I guess, but hasn't he really been dead for about 20 years now?

But the kicker, the WTF moment of "celebrity" deaths was the one that occurred over the weekend.

Billy Mays?? Huh? How is that possible?

It's amazing what TV you can get into when you are sitting up late either with an infant or awaiting the infant's eventual late-night wake-up. I became a rather fond follower of the TLC show "Pitchmen" thanks to our 14-week old.

He worked hard to get from the Pittsburgh area to the Boardwalk in AC to the mansion seen on Pitchmen.

And now? Gone.

I have to say, of the "celebrity" deaths in the last week, the death of Billy Mays actually hit the hardest.

RIP Pitchman.

R.I.P. Harry Kalas, the Voice of Summer

As a lifelong Phillies fan, I can honestly say that hearing Harry the K call a game meant that it was summertime. No school, no homework, just cicadas, run-the-bases and watching the Phils on TV.

There are few better feelings than lying on the sofa on a rainy stormy summer Sunday afternoon and watching the Phils play somewhere sunny and hearing Harry Kalas call the game.

And now that is gone.

Harry Kalas passed away this afternoon, instantaneously silencing summer for good. The cicadas will still chirp for sure, but the unmistakable narration of summer in Philly won't be joining them.

I actually did meet Harry Kalas once. Me and the Sweaty Irishman charged up the steps at Jack Russell Stadium in Clearwater at the end of an exhibition game to the press box. The windows were open and Sweaty and I stood there in awe, hemming and hawing out our thanks and whatnot. Harry looked bemused and rather than cowering in fear thanked us and shook our hands. That 30 second encounter is a highlight of my sports life.

We'll miss you Harry. Phillies home runs and strikeouts by Phils' pitchers will never sound the same...

He Really Captured the Spirit of the Thing

Reggie Dunlop motivating his team: I am personally placing a hundred-dollar bounty on the head of Tim McCracken. He's the head coach and chief punk on that Syracuse team.

Unless you've been under a rock this weekend you've no doubt heard that Paul Newman has lost his battle with cancer.

While there have been plenty of tributes throughout the weekend, all of which recount his incredible acting career, his love for racing and probably most importantly on a human level his tireless philanthropy, there has been one glaring omission in almost all of these tributes:

Reggie Dunlop on the Hanson Brothers: They're too dumb to play with themselves. Boy, every piece of garbage that comes into the market and you gotta buy it!

His portrayal of Coach Reggie Dunlop in one of my favorite movies of all time, Slap Shot.

I understand the omission especially when you weigh Slap Shot against some of his other movies and characters. Hud, Butch Cassidy, Fast Eddie Felson, The Verdict, The Sting, Cool Hand Luke and about 100 more that resonate more with the public than his portrayal of a down and out minor league hockey coach.

It's my favorite Paul Newman role and I have read in a few different places that Slap Shot was one of his favorite movie shoots. Maybe it should be given more consideration than it gets. At least he didn't take out a full-page ad to apologize for playing Coach Dunlop.

So if heaven has a low, low minor league hockey team, I hope Paul Newman is the player coach and I hope he motivates his players as well as he did in the movie.

Thanks Mr. Newman.

Reggie Dunlop on the Chiefs' fans: They spent their own dough to get here, and they came here to see us! All right, let's show 'em what we got, guys! Get out there on the ice and let 'em know you're there. Get that fuckin' stick in their side. Let 'em know you're there! Get that lumber in his teeth. Let 'em know you're there!

[All pictures courtesy of the awesome Slap Shot Tribute site]

The Definitive 1000

We are going to be counting down the Definitive 1000 things. Why are they Definitive? Because The Friendly Friends have deemed them as such.

968 - The Wachovia Spectrum



It's dumpy. It's small. Its roof wouldn't stay on.

But it is also front and center in so many memories for the Friendly Friends.

The Philly papers and websites are filled with rememberances for the old barn. And they all center on the same few things: Flyers and some basketball teams' championships, Olga Korbut, Bruce, Billy Joel, Christian Laettner's shot and the Grateful Dead.

But those are the party-line, let's shine it up and make it look good memories.

The Friendly Friends would like to celebrate the life of this old building through the eyes of the common man. Not through the eyes of the Comcast PR department. So without further ado, and in no particular order, here are some random thoughts and memories of times spent with the Spectrum.


From Sweaty:

Going to a Philadelphia Phantoms game with FFMatt. The game itself was uneventful. But for the first and only time in my life, I caught a sling shotted t-shirt launched towards us. FFMatt positioned himself in front of me as a pick. The shirt was launched; I reached for it and snagged it with one hand! Yes! I rule! The guy behind me did take a chunk of skin out of my hand with his disturbingly long fingernails, but it was worth it. The shirt, I wore until it disintegrated. There were also two tickets to a future Phantoms game inside the shirt. To complete the circle, I went to that game with Jewbacca. He and I had seats right behind the goalie. They were little folding seats, and Jewbacca and I are on the larger side, so we decided to go sit up in the cheaper seats.

Is this the guy that scratched Sweaty?

From Jewbacca:

First and foremost, the Spectrum will always mean Flyers hockey to me. Both live and on PRISM (Philadelphia Regional In-Home Sports and Movies). How cool is it that Flyers games from the Spectrum were broadcast exclusively on a cable channel called PRISM? My earliest sports memories with my dad have nothing to do with the usual American, Norman Rockwell baseball scenes. They all involve the Flyers. My dad would get 4 or 5 games a year to go to and he'd take me to one, The Mighty Malagan to one and usually my mom to the others. We'd sit in the first row of the second level and use the ledge in front of us as a table for our sausage sandwiches and sodas. He'd explain the finer points of the game and why we had to whistle every time Ron Duguay touched the puck. He made sure that we left that Nordiques game at the end of the second period with the Flyers down 3-0 since it was a school night. We listened as the Flyers came back to win 4-3 in OT.

We battled about bedtimes when the Flyers were on. Home games meant 7:05 and at least half the game before bedtime at 8:30. They also meant Ed Van Impe from the bowels of the Spectrum interviewing someone between periods who would get a gift certificate to some men's store or a watch. Those intervies dragged for an 8 year old who only had until 8:30!

But seeing the colors in the Spectrum logo at center ice in person, or on PRISM, was always awesome.

My god. That hair. How could you not wolf-whistle at that?

From Sweaty:

The Sixers Dancer I named "Candy". Watching the dreck that was the Sixers at the time, including Jeff Hornacek (AKA K.D. Lang), Jeff Malone and Clarence Weatherspoon was all worth while thanks to that little blonde vixen.

Candy?? Is that you??? Did you get all of my voicemails and text messages? You did? What's this? A restraining order?? Exactly how far is 500 yards anyway....

From FFMatt:

Besides the years of Flyers games and childhood Ringling Brothers Circus experiences, and Wiggles concerts for my kids I was at the Flyers season opener after the strike ended. HUGE pumped crowd, insane energy and it all quickly devolved into E-A-G-L-E-S EAGLES chants as the Flyers stunk up the ice with a season opening loss. Back where we belong!

Sweaty will always have Candy and FFMatt will always have these guys...and thousands of drunk idiot Eagles fans.

From Jewbacca:

In sixth grade a new sport dawned into my puberty fevered brain. The Eagle League Pro Box Lacrosse outfit (now the MILL or the MLL or NLL or something) came into existence with the Washington Wave, the Baltimore Thunder, the New York/New Jersey Saints and most importantly the Philadelphia Wings. This was earth shattering to a young Jewbacca. As soon as I was old enough to drive, me and the Malagan would go to the Showcase store (an offshoot of the Spectrum and Spectacor) at the Willow Grove Park Mall and we'd get TicketTron tickets to every single home game the Wings played. We'd usually get two extra and invite friends along. We'd all pile into my 1981 Chevy Impala and cruise down to the Spectrum, blasting our good luck mixtape, which inexplicably contianed 3 songs from Achtung Baby, 3 songs from Queen's Greatest Hits (the blue one) and some other songs long forgotten.

We'd enter the sports mecca and settle in for a couple hours of the best parts of all sports: the hitting and fighting of hockey, the speed of...well hockey again, the high scoring of....well this time I'd have to say early 80's hockey and the shot clock of basketball. We'd scream our lungs out for the Gaits, Dallas Eliuk, John Nostrant, Tony Resch (who incidentally was my buddy Jim's math teacher at Penn Charter), and anyone else wearing the silver and black. We even got to sit next to Chopper at a pre-season Wings/Pittsburgh Bulls game.

Without missing a home game (pre-, regular and post-season) for four years, we still managed to miss all four of the Wings' championships, but did see them lose one to the Buffalo Bandits in OT. We also saw a game called against the Detroit Turbos since every single player on both teams got into a major bench clearing brawl. The Turbos disappeared after that.

This is Chopper. He leads his entire side of the arena in a W-I-N-G-S Wings(!) chant and taunts opposing players coming to the box. He is a god.

From Sweaty:

Going to my first ever Wings game with Jewbacca and his brother Malagan. I had always scoffed at the Wings as a secondary sport, but I was truly entertained and have since been to many games. I was dazzled by the Gait brothers and the sprawling saves of Dallas Eliuk. The Wings, as it turned out were right...I paid for the whole seat, but only used the edge

From Jewbacca:

Fine. You want a basketball memory of the Spectrum? My hatred of basketball notwithstanding, I do have two minor Spectrum related basketball memories. My dad's friend scored Sixers-Celtics tickets in 1984 or 1985. They had four and I guess no one else could use them so the Malagan and I got to go. I remember two things from that night: 1) when my dad's friend drove his Toyota mini-bus/van thing over a cement island to get around a traffic light (red by the way) and 2) walking through the Spectrum lot wearing my Celtics painter's cap that I specifically asked for when my dad was in Boston on business. I hated the Sixers then and since the Celtics were one of their biggest rivals, I'd proudly wear that. Being ten and in South Philly wearing a Celtics hat I was treated exactly as I thought I would be: by having my life endangered by taunting Sixers fans until my dad ripped the hat off my head and pocketed it.

My Celtics painter's cap looked just like this. Except it was a hat and not a hot cheerleader. It was mostly green though.

From Sweaty:

Going to a Sixers game with Mighty Malagan, again, with a horrible Sixers team and sitting close enough to the Sixers bench that they were within earshot. How did I know they were within earshot? Because Jewbacca's brother kept yelling out the name of Rex Walters. Rex Walters could have been up for 12th man of the year in basketball. A poor little white guy who found himself the last man on the bench. Malagan kept calling his name...for 48 minutes. While sitting on the bench, while he stood near the sideline...Malagan called "Rex! Rex Walters!” A fruitless pursuit right? Wrong. Low and behold, the final team timeout of the game, Rex is standing in the team huddle pretending to be paying attention, as if he had anything to do with the play being drawn up. Malagan is still hoarsely yelling his name...then it happens. Rex Walters raises his eyebrows and looks up at Malagan and gives him a head nod acknowledgement. What does Malagan do? He giggles like a school girl and shuts up for the last 40 seconds of the game.

I did a GIS for "Rex Walters." I got a picture of Gemma Atkinson. Which would you have put here?

From Jewbacca:

I saw my first ever concert, the best concert I've ever seen and had the most fun I've ever had at a concert all at the Spectrum.

First concert: Midnight Oil on the Blue Sky Mining tour in 1991. Peter Garrett is a very, very intense man. He did a dive off of the top of a stack of Marshalls during a cover of "What's So Funny 'bout Peace Love and Understanding" that would have killed a mere mortal.

Best concert: Peter Gabriel on the Us tour in 1992 or 1993. Sweaty can back me up on this one, but I think he did three separate encores, the last of which was after the lights and house music came back up. He came out and talked to the crowd for about 5 minutes, thanking Philly for all their support during his career. It was the most theatrical concert I've been to, and also one of the best all-round musically.

Most fun at a concert: Barenaked Ladies, New Year's Eve 1999(98?). Possibly the best stage presence of any band I've ever seen (and I've seen a lot having worked Event Staff security for 4 years at the Tower, the Mann, the Civic Center and even the Spectrum). Sponataneous rapping, unbeliveably strange dancing and a midnight phone call to Kevin Hearn in the hospital back in Toronto to countdown to the new year all made it memorable. Plus, Mrs. Jewbacca got me the tickets for Christmas that year. I had Kraft Macaroni and Cheese in my shoes when I got home!

From Sweaty:

Early in the summer of 1993, I was adjusting to the freedom of now more mandatory formalized education. Released from the shackles of Springfield High school, I was looking forward to the summer of love...or, as it turned out for me, summer of I like you but not in that way.

But before the weekend trips to the Jersey Shore would take place. Before drunken nights passing out in Turkey Clubs (the sandwich, not a night hot spot), before working 1 day in an Ice House and 2 weeks as a beach tagger in Sea Isle City...I and other Friendly Friends such as Jewbacca had to kick the summer off right with my first ever concert! I am proud to say that my first concert ever still holds up as one of my favorites as Peter Gabriel came to town promoting his new album Us. The Spectrum was arockin' that night my friends. Peter Gabriel knew how to put on a show, and he made sure to include Solsbury Hill to appease the Gods. The Gods being me & Jewbacca. As I said, still one of my favorite concerts of all time and the only one I saw at the Spectrum. Pissah was there as well, and shockingly, he found something to complain about. Because he never complains about anything!

So there you have it folks. Some of the Friendly Friends' memories of the Spectrum. Of course there are more, but these are the ones that stand out.

Unfortunately my most recent visit (Phantoms game this past spring) left a bad image for me. They've let the place run down quite a bit. It was clear at that time that they had stopped trying and knew it was only a matter of time before a soul-less, corporate, Disney-like "entertainment" center was built over its grave. I guarantee you, I won't be making that just-long-enough-to-be-extrememly-annoying-not-long-enough-to-risk-my-life-at-Fern-Rock-to-take-the-subway trip to this new complex. Maybe if I'm at the Center or the Bank I'll brave the crowd of annoying South Jerseyans long enough to check it out.

But for the memories it invokes and the times we've spent there, the Friendly Friends are proud to add The Spectrum to the Definitive 1000!

[Feel free to leave your memories in the comments. Thanks to http://www.e-lacrosse.com/ for the picture of Chopper.]

Did you know that "Spectrum" is actually an acronym for Sports-Entertainment-Concerts-Theater-rum. The "rum," as in Auditorium, was all the rage in 1967 for newly built arenas (see Centrum, Worcester)

Finally, Someone With Enough Sense to Stand Up to the NRA...

Sgt. Steven Liczbinski

As some of you are aware, the unthinkable happened here in Philly over the weekend.

Three men thugs animals robbed a bank branch in a supermarket and killed a Philly Police Officer who responded to the call.

One of these animals was killed by police, one arrested and one is on the loose.

What did these animals use to kill Sgt. Liczbinski?

The SKS carbine - considered simple and rugged - weighs about 8.5 pounds and can be bought legally for as little as $179. Instructions for cleaning and routine maintenance can be found on YouTube.

And what kind of ammo?

The gun that killed officer Liczbinski was outfitted with a 30 cartridge magazine and fired a 7.62x39mm bullet...

What does that mean to those of us sane people not obsessed with guns?

The SKS dates to the mid-40s and was originally designed for the Soviet infantry. The Red Army replaced the SKS with the AK-47. The Chinese military bought the SKS manufacturing equipment and produced more than 8 million of them.

Here is the million dollar question: For what possible purpose would three worthless animals have such a firearm?

Pretty much for the reason it was used: To penetrate a police car and an officer's bulletproof vest. There is no other reason for anyone to own this gun. You hunt with it, and you will be picking pieces of the critter you killed (congratulations little man!) out of the surrounding trees.

And this is exactly why Mayor Nutter signed a bill into law that would outlaw the sale and possession of assault rifles in the City of Philadelphia. There is no earthly reason to have a weapon of this type, outside of the military uses for which it was designed, unless you work overnight security in Jurassic Park or have particularly angry killer whales on your paper route.

And what did Mayor Nutter get for his troubles?

The NRA immediately sued the city on the grounds that the city does not have the authority to enact local gun control. They obtained a temporary restraining order to keep the city from enforcing the new laws.

That's right. The NRA sued the City of Philadelphia to block the enforcement of this and four other laws the Mayor sought to have put on the books...in a city that saw 392 murders in 2007.

So what did the Mayor have for the NRA today?

"I think it's insane," Nutter said. "The fact that we put forward a piece of legislation to prevent the sale and use and transfer of assault weapons and have a Philadelphia police officer assaulted on the streets with one, I think makes it pretty clear to anyone who is confused about this issue that there's no reason for any citizen, any person other than in law enforcement or in the military to have such a weapon."

He added: "There's no legitimate argument by the NRA, they need to get in the real world where the rest of us live and come to grips with these kinds of issues. They owe an apology to the family for their staunch opposition over many, many years blocking legislative support for these kinds of matters.

Amen. Couldn't have said it better myself with a speechwriter and two editors.

The NRA's response? Who cares. This is 1/3 my site and I don't have to give equal time to anyone, least of all those lunatics in the NRA.

Am I naive enough to think that an assault weapon ban would have stopped this? No, I am not. There is a reason these animals were criminals...I doubt they would have let a little ban on assault weapons stop them from getting one.

Am I too naive to see that this may be the Mayor cashing in on a family's grief to prove a point in a political-legal battle he may very well lose? No, I see that as well.

But the point is someone in a position of power in this great Commonwealth of Pennsyltucky is standing up to the louts of the NRA. Will it go anywhere? Probably not. Will it stop the lobbying in Harrisburg to "protect" our "Second Amendment" right to bear arms ? Probably not. Will it even help to get the state's appellate courts to reverse themselves and allow Philly to police itself when it comes to guns? Not a chance.

Does it make me feel a little better about this f'd up world to hear an elected official actually call the NRA out? You bet it does.

And when something this terrible happens, you need to look at the little things that make you feel one iota better than you did a minute ago. So thank you Mayor Nutter for giving us at least that tiny bit of hope -- hope that maybe not all is lost when it comes to the NRA and its insane agenda.

Did I mention that Sgt. Liczbinski left behind a wife and three children? Want to help? Here's how:

Donations can be sent to: Stephen Liczbinski Family Memorial Trust Fund, Police & Fire Federal Credit Union, 901 Arch St., Philadelphia, PA 19107.

Donations can also be taken to the Fourth District, 1301 S. 11th St.; the 24th District, 3901 Whitaker Ave.; or the branches of the Police and Fire Credit Union at 901 Arch St., 7604 City Ave., 8500 Henry Ave., 3338 S. Broad St., Byberry and Bustleton Avenue (Leo Mall), 7500 Castor Ave., or 3330 Grant Ave.


[Picture from Philly.com as well as the quotes above]

[UPDATE: They caught the missing animal last night well before the self-imposed deadline of Sgt. Liczbinski's funeral!! May he rot in hell.]

So it Goes.

The title of this blog seemed appropriate for the events that have preceded it during the last week. If you aren't familiar with it, let me fill you in...

From Kurt Vonnegut's Slaughterhouse-Five:


'When a Tralfamadorian sees a corpse, all he thinks is that the dead person is in a bad condition in that particular moment, but that same person is just fine in plenty of other moments. Now, when I myself hear that somebody is dead, I simply shrug and say what the Tralfamadorians say about dead people, which is 'So it goes'.''

The horrible incident at Virginia Tech this week was a tragic and unfortunate reminder of the culture that we live in and of the affect one disturbed and twisted individual can have on our society. Whatever the motive was behind this is moot. Nothing can justify the actions of that person. I will not even dignify the person behind this by mentioning their name. Of course this underscores the crime and lack of gun control in the United States, but that discussion is for another time, another blog. Talk about that now would overshadow the memory of the victims and their families at a time when they need the support and assistance from everyone.

Not much can be said about what happened. It cannot be changed, only reflected upon and learned from.


"The most important thing I learned on Tralfamadore was that when a person dies, he only appears to die. He is still very much alive in the past, so it is very silly for people to cry at his funeral. All moments, past, present and future always have existed, always will exist. The Tralfamadorians can look at all the different moments just the way we can look at a stretch of the Rocky Mountains, for instance. They can see how permanent all the moments are, and they can look at any moment that interests them. It is just an illusion we have here on Earth that one moment follows another one, like beads on a string, and that once a moment is gone it is gone forever."

In memory of all the victims of the Virginia Tech Shootings.


Kurt Vonnegut 1922-2007